


9-1-1 Week Prompt Fills

by girlfromcarolina



Category: 9-1-1 (TV)
Genre: 9-1-1 Week, Betting, Established Relationship, Firehouse 118 Family (9-1-1), Kissing, M/M, Mentioned Firehouse 118 Crew (9-1-1 TV), Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-12
Updated: 2020-07-12
Packaged: 2021-03-04 20:42:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,609
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25212607
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/girlfromcarolina/pseuds/girlfromcarolina
Summary: Buck x Eddie fics from9-1-1 Weekon Tumblr.1. "Wanna bet?" + FluffThe last time they did this, Eddie lost spectacularly. He has no intention of repeating that poor performance.2. "It's okay, you can cry." + ComfortHe’s just grateful that Buck is here tonight, and not alone in his apartment where the walls can close in without warning and leave a person trapped in their own head. This is family time, after all
Relationships: Evan "Buck" Buckley/Eddie Diaz (9-1-1 TV)
Comments: 12
Kudos: 122





	1. Losing Isn't So Bad

**Author's Note:**

> These are fills from [9-1-1 Week](https://911week.tumblr.com/) over on Tumblr. These two fills can be read as related stories from the same established Buck x Eddie relationship. Set vaguely during Season 3.

Buck playfully nudges Eddie with his elbow and points towards the kitchen. “Look at Chim,” he says as Eddie turns his head. “He’s about to eat that jelly donut with no napkin.”

“So?”

“So...he’s gonna end up with filling all over his shirt before he even takes three bites.”

Eddie grins. “Wanna bet?” he responds. Maybe today is the day Chimney learns his lesson. Stranger things have happened, he figures.

Those blue eyes light up. “The usual?” Buck asks, earning a nod. “You’re on.”

From the couch in the lounge, they watch Chimney bite into one of the fresh donuts that were so thoughtfully delivered by Ackerman’s wife earlier that morning. Buck’s eyes dart up and down, trying to make it look like he’s _not_ interested in what Chim is doing. Two bites in, Buck reaches over and taps Eddie’s leg when he sees a gooey glob of dark raspberry filling pushing out one end of the donut. A few seconds later, that glob is running sticky-slow down Chim’s shirt.

“Aw, come on!” Chim groans, mouth half-full. “I didn’t bring a spare today.”

“Eddie’s got an extra shirt in his locker!” Buck offers, shooting Eddie a smug grin. Eddie tries to push him off the couch in retaliation, but Buck holds his ground, laughing at Eddie’s efforts.

Chim looks over at them. “Do you mind, man?”

Caught out, Eddie nods and drops his hands from Buck’s shoulders. “Go right ahead.”

Chim stuffs the remaining donut section in his mouth, one cheek bulging like a satisfied chipmunk, and heads downstairs to change before their next call out. Eddie turns to Buck who’s still smiling.

“You’re up by one, but the day is young,” he warns softly.

Buck appears unfazed. “I’m up for the challenge if you are.”

The alarm sounds, robbing Eddie of his response. Buck is on his feet first, extending his hand to pull Eddie off the couch before they rush down the stairs and start suiting up.

^^^^^^^

Betting comes naturally to firefighters. Stuck together for long periods of time, finding ways to keep themselves distracted during long shifts and between call-outs they’d rather forget. Some take it more seriously than others. Byrd, for example, hosts a monthly poker game that Eddie’s only been to once. And once was enough to know that Byrd’s game was too rich for his blood. Eddie prefers making ridiculous side-bets with Buck, or wagering beers and plates of wings with Chim when they’re at a badge-and-ladder joint watching a game. Even Bobby gets in on the action from time to time.

 _Everyone_ puts money in the pool when there’s a potential relationship to uncover, even if Hen usually ends up with their money.

“I bet I can bench ten more pounds than I could last week,” Buck proclaims when they’re back at the station, hitting the gym after lunch.

Eddie takes that action and ends up with a point when Buck only presses five more pounds than his previous best. It’s a win-win—tying the score while getting to watch Buck flex his muscles. Miraculously, they’re alone in this corner of the station, meaning Eddie can watch to his heart’s content.

That small victory leaves Eddie a little hungry for more. The last time they did this, Eddie lost spectacularly. He has no intention of repeating that poor performance.

“I bet Caldwell trips over the hose before he finishes rolling it.”

Buck glances out into the engine bay and finds Caldwell in the middle of his task, the hose uncoiled behind him. “He’s careful,” Buck says, but he takes the bet anyway.

Eddie is spotting Buck at the leg press when he catches Caldwell securing the hoses at the truck without incident. Buck locks the weights and taps Eddie on the shin, flashing two fingers and a smile.

By the time dinner rolls around, Eddie is losing 4-2. He considers cutting his losses, but the casual bets are a pleasant distraction from the long shift, so he bets Buck that he can wash more dishes. Eddie loses again and the front of his shirt is dotted with soap bubbles from the water Buck flicked at him.

Close to midnight, Buck and Eddie are the only ones still in the lounge, sprawled out end to end on the same couch, facing each other with their lower legs tangled across the middle cushion.

“Ready to concede?”

Eddie sighs, though his expression is fond when he looks at Buck. “5-3 isn’t as bad as last time.”

“It’s admirable,” Buck acknowledges. “I think I’ll collect my winnings now.”

“Here?” Eddie glances around to make sure they’re alone.

“Better here than the bunk room while everyone’s trying to sleep.”

Eddie acts put upon, but he shifts around until he and Buck are sitting side-by-side. He waits until Buck points to his cheek where a slight flush has risen to the surface of his skin before leaning over and placing a soft kiss on the same spot. When he pulls back, Buck is pointing to the tip of his nose, forcing Eddie to sit up a bit to reach with his next kiss.

Kisses three and four are left on Buck’s other cheek. Eddie straddles Buck’s lap, sleepy and comfortable, grateful to have a few minutes of peace and quiet after the hectic day. They know the alarm could sound at any minute though, so when Buck points to his mouth, Eddie swiftly ducks down and presses their lips together. This kiss is light and fleeting, a bare echo of the kisses they share when they’re off the clock and back at home, yet it’s no less meaningful.

“Ready for bed?” Eddie asks, tilting into the strong arms wrapped around his back.

“Do we have to?” Buck grumbles, dropping his head against Eddie’s chest.

“If Bobby catches us making out, we’re on garbage duty for a month. Remember?”

Buck groans, the sound moving through Eddie’s body. He runs his fingers through Buck’s hair before stepping out of the embrace and climbing to his feet. This time, he’s the one holding his hand out for Buck to take, and they make their way through the quiet station hand-in-hand. 

They’re outside the bunk room when Buck pulls Eddie back into his arms in a single move. Eddie knows they’re tempting fate, but he gives into the pressure of Buck’s lips anyway. He’d gladly volunteer himself for garbage duty if it meant he could kiss Buck like this whenever he wanted, though he has a feeling Bobby would split them up into different shifts just to spare everyone the public displays of affection.

“Alright, Buck,” Eddie whispers when Buck releases his lips. “Our shift will be over soon and we can continue this at home.”

“Promise?”

“We have the whole day to ourselves until Christopher is out of school.”

Eddie feels Buck’s long exhale and knows that they’re both looking forward to the long, lazy hours in between the end of their 24-hour shift and picking Chris up in the afternoon.

“I bet Byrd is already snoring.”

Eddie shouldn’t take the bet—he’ll lose because Byrd _always_ snores when the humidity is high—but the only thing better than winning is losing to Buck, especially with two days off looming in the near future.

“You’re on.”


	2. Belonging

It’s getting close to Christopher’s bed time, yet Eddie can’t bring himself to move off the couch. His son is curled up beside him, already in pajamas, and _Coco_ is playing on the screen in front of them with the volume turned down to almost nothing. That was Chris’ idea—not only does he know all the words by heart, but he’d insisted that making it too loud would keep Buck from sleeping.

Some days, Eddie wonders how he’s managed to raise such a considerate kid. Then he remembers the people around him, the _village_ here and back in Texas, and knows he can only take partial credit.

While Chris is focused on the movie, Eddie’s mind is down the hall, in his bedroom where Buck is hopefully fast asleep. Their last 24-hour shift was brutal, and Buck had pushed himself a little too hard during a water rescue. Eddie knows what Buck would say—”I should have pushed _harder_ ”—even though it wouldn’t have made a difference. The two people they’d lost...well, nothing short of an act of God would have changed their fates.

As worn down and withdrawn as Buck was when they were finally off the clock, he still managed to come home with the Diazes to have dinner, as attentive to his little Superman as ever. It was only when Chris asked for Coco that Buck admitted that he needed to crash.

“You and I can watch it again tomorrow night, okay?” he gently promised Chris before avoiding Eddie’s shrewd gaze and shutting himself in the dark bedroom.

Eddie didn’t need Buck to explain. A month ago, it was Eddie behind that door, mind unable to fall quiet after a tough call-out, while Buck helped Christopher with his homework and got him ready for bed before joining Eddie on his bed and curling around him. He never let go, even when Eddie couldn’t stop shaking.

He’s just grateful that Buck is here tonight, and not alone in his apartment where the walls can close in without warning and leave a person trapped in their own head. This is family time, after all: a precious 48 hours before their next shift. Buck belongs here, and Eddie ought to say that out loud one of these days.

He’s scrolling through his texts, making sure he hasn’t missed anything from Carla or his sisters and catching up on all the various 118 group texts, when Christopher tenses against him.

“Falling asleep there, buddy?” he asks softly, assuming his son drifted off before jolting himself awake.

Chris shakes his head. “Thought I heard Buck.”

Eddie listens for a few seconds. “Buck’s probably fast asleep by now.”

“But I heard him.”

There’s a chance Buck is restless, or that Chris heard a noise from outside. Eddie sets his phone on the cushion and listens carefully as Chris pushes himself up to do the same, his head barely clearing the back of the couch as he peers down the hallway.

They both heard the sounds at the same time. An erratic _thump-thump_ that reaches past the closed door and into the living room, along with muffled cries that send a shiver down Eddie’s spine.

“I told you.”

“I know, buddy,” Eddie says. He should have trusted Chris; his kid’s got ears like a fox, which backfires when Eddie or Buck curses under their breath. “Remember your bad dreams? Buck gets them too, sometimes.”

Chris looks up at his father, gazing earnestly through his glasses. “We should help him.”

Even as Eddie’s heart is breaking a little for Buck’s struggles, there’s a part of him that fills with wonder at Chris’ thoughtfulness and determination to help. Those qualities aren’t new, but they’ve certainly grown in Christopher since Buck came into their lives.

“Alright, we can do that. You’ve got to do what I say though, alright?”

After Chris nods, Eddie picks him up and makes his way slowly down the hall, keeping one ear open. The closer they get to the bedroom, the more Eddie can hear. Painful cries and cut-off shouts. The bed frame creaking as the lone occupant tosses and turns, caught in an invisible trap. Outside the door, Eddie sets Chris down and helps him steady himself against the wall.

“Wait here until I say it’s okay to come in,” he tells his son in a low voice. “Let me wake Buck up first.”

Chris nods to show that he understands. Eddie takes a deep breath and opens the door. He has more experience with this than anyone should rightly possess, half of it personal and half from dealing with the struggles of people around him. Making no sudden movements, he sits cautiously at the side of the bed, away from Buck’s grasping, empty hands. 

“Buck,” he whispers. “You’re okay. You’re _here_ , Evan.” When that doesn’t rouse Buck, Eddie frowns. Buck must be deep—he usually comes back at the sound of Eddie’s voice.

Buck goes still, and Eddie thinks that maybe he reached him after all, but starts to thrash a few seconds later, panicking in his sleep. Aware of Christopher’s concerned stare, Eddie sets his hand on Buck’s stomach, holding him steady through his sweat-soaked T-shirt. He knows better than to press too hard or attempt to restrain Buck’s hands. He rubs lightly back and forth, whispering a constant stream of reassurances until Buck bolts upright into a sitting position, panting and clutching Eddie’s arm to his chest.

“Whoa, whoa, Buck. Easy. You’re okay,” he says in the same low voice.

“Eds, I—” Buck’s ragged breathing prevents him from speaking more than a handful of syllables. “I saw...I was...I couldn’t...”

“We’re here, me and Chris,” Eddie tells him before Buck manages to elaborate. There are certain details he doesn’t want his son to overhear.

At Chris’ name, Buck looks up, eyes losing their glassiness. His body relaxes, spine no longer ramrod-straight, and he leans against Eddie. “Hey, Superman.”

“We came to make sure you were okay,” Christopher explains proudly.

Once Buck is steady, Eddie stands and picks Chris up, carrying him over to the bed and setting him beside Buck. Together, the three of them form one soft, sleepy pile.

“Was it a bad dream?”

At the question, Buck holds Chris a little tighter, his voice strained when he answers, “Yeah, buddy, just a really bad dream about something that happened today.”

Chris reaches up and touches Buck’s cheek with small, careful fingers. “It’s okay, Bucky. You can cry,” Chris tells him. “Dad says it’s good to cry sometimes.”

Eddie’s heart is overflowing with love for these two.

Buck is looking at Eddie as he says, “Your dad’s a pretty smart guy.” There are tears caught in the corners of his eyes. Whatever emotional storm he faced in his dream, he’s sailing out of it now. Eddie sighs, relieved.

“How about I get your iPad so you and Buck can finish watching Coco in here while I get ready for bed?”

Buck and Chris are both on board with that plan. After handing the iPad to Buck, Eddie rushes through his nighttime routine. Locking up, putting food away, making sure there are no dirty dishes waiting in the sink. It’s too early for sleep, but there’s nowhere he’d rather be than with Chris and Buck. If he has to, he’ll stay awake all night to make sure Buck can rest easy.

By the time he gets back to the bedroom, Chris is asleep. Buck is gazing down at him fondly. The fear and panic in his eyes has been replaced with a calm sort of peace.  
“Do you want to talk about it?” Eddie asks, switching off the light and stepping up to the bed.

Buck shakes his head. “Maybe tomorrow. Right now, I’m good.”

“Should I move Chris to his room?”

“Can he stay here with us for a bit? It’s nice...having him close.”

“I understand. I’ll carry him to bed later.”

Buck thanks him wordlessly with a grateful smile. Trying not to jostle Chris, Eddie climbs into bed behind Buck, dropping a kiss to his cheek. Buck, of course, tilts his head back so that the second kiss falls on his lips.

“I’m glad I’m here,” he says, and the next kiss ends up a little deeper before Eddie manages to pull away.

“Me too.”

FIN

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompts always welcome over on [tumblr](https://hurricanekelleigh.tumblr.com/).


End file.
